


Through the Drinking Glass

by Cathalinaheart



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 1872
Genre: Drunk!Steve, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 00:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21658402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cathalinaheart/pseuds/Cathalinaheart
Summary: It's the anniversary of Bucky's death and a drunk Sheriff shows up at Tony's door in the middle of the night.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 14
Kudos: 120
Collections: 2019 Captain America/Iron Man Holiday Exchange





	Through the Drinking Glass

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gottalovev](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gottalovev/gifts).



> Thank you to Imperium for betaing and to wynne for helping me find a title.

Natasha had closed the saloon early and nobody in Timely was begrudging her that, not today of all days. It was, however, the reason Tony Stark was surprisingly sober for that time of night. 

Tony was lying half on the floor half on the bed; his own liquor stash on the other side of the room, which frankly, was just too far. He was debating if getting up was worth it if it meant more whiskey when the knocking started.

Someone knocking this late at night usually meant trouble, something Tony was not in the mood for in the slightest. He closed his eyes and pretended not to hear the sound of knuckles rapping on wood. Surely the person would get the hint and just leave.

“Tony? You there?”

Huh, what did the Sheriff want from him? Especially considering what day it was. A mystery that might actually be worth getting up to to solve. And Steve was always a welcome sight, especially when he wasn’t scolding Tony. That couldn’t possibly be the case now, right? Tony didn’t remember having done anything.

With a sigh he slowly pushed himself up. No point in keeping the Sheriff waiting.

He opened the door to a surprising sight. Steve didn’t look like his uptight put together self at all, his hair was disheveled, his clothes rumpled and he smelled strongly of alcohol. He was leaning precariously against the doorframe, as if fighting gravity was too hard without support.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes” Tony drawled, letting his eyes roam over Steve’s body.

Instead of the usual scowl he just got a bright smile in return.

“Tony!” Steve exclaimed, pushing away from the doorframe, opening his arms for a hug and promptly falling forward into Tony.

The sudden weight around his torso made Tony take a step back to stabilize himself.

“Careful there, handsome,” he gasped.

Gingerly he helped Steve into a more vertical position and guided him inside.

“Here, sit down,” he said, tucking his head around Steve’s neck and gently pushing him down. “We don’t want you to get hurt. Timely doesn’t need to go looking for a new sheriff again.”

Awkwardly Tony fiddled with his hands, unsure what to do with a drunk sheriff in his house. This was not a situation he was equipped to deal with. He wondered if he had any water left he could offer Steve.

“Not gonna let that happen.” Steve said, jaw squared defiantly. “I can take care of myself. And I will do everything I can after, after…” He trailed off, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

There was no need for Steve to finish that sentence. Everyone in Timely knew the tragic story of Deputy James Barnes’ death and it seemed that Steve still blamed himself for it.

Giving up his search for a non-alcoholic beverage Tony sat down next to Steve.

“Why aren’t you with Natasha? Usually the both of you spent this day together.”

“Kicked me out. Said I was drinking too much. Being too much of a downer. She was being kind, and… and thoughtful.” He spat the last word out. “Like it wasn’t my fault that… that…” Steve trailed off and swallowed before his mopey expression turned into a bright smile. “You have alcohol for me, right Tony?”

“I think you might have had enough already,” Tony said gently, tugging his hand out of Steve’s imploring grasp. “You’ll thank me in the morning, believe me.”

“You drink way more than this in a single day” Steve pouted.

“But I also have a much higher tolerance.” Tony’s voice turned bitter. “You don’t want that.” 

He sincerely hoped that Steve would not turn to the bottle like he had, when he hadn’t been able to live with himself anymore. When everyday had become too much to bare without alcohol smoothing out the edges. Steve seemed to be so much better at dealing with the atrocities he’d seen. Then again, he hadn’t been responsible for hundreds of men getting slaughtered like pigs, without any chance for a fight. Quickly Tony banished the pictures his mind was conjuring into the deepest abyss of his consciousness.

“I miss him, Tony. It’s been a year and I still miss him. He’s dead and nobody had to pay for it. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have send him on his own, but I didn’t think. And then they blamed the Indians...That isn’t right, Tony. That isn’t the truth.”

“Yeah, I know Steve.”

Tony was at a loss. He had no idea how to handle a sad and drunk sheriff. He wasn’t good at human interactions on his best days. What do normal people do to comfort one another? Maybe a hug?

Carefully Tony pulled Steve into a half embrace. It was a bit awkward with both of them sitting in different chairs, but they were close enough to kind of make it work. Steve hid his face in the crook of Tony’s neck.

“You’re warm”, Steve mumbled, his breath ghosting over Tony’s skin, making him shiver.

It would be a lie to say that Tony didn’t enjoy being this close to Steve. And that was a problem. Carefully he tried to extract himself, but Steve gripped his shoulders hard.

“Please.” Steve’s face was just inches away from his own. The blue of Steve’s eyes wasn’t as perfect as he had thought. Tiny specks of green surrounded the pupil. “Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t” Tony promised. If Steve weren’t drunk, Tony would have worried about the amount of feelings leaking into his voice.

“Good” Steve breathed out, barely audible, slowly moving his face closer.

Surely Tony was imagining things, right? But before his mind had time to panic properly, Steve’s lips pressed against his own.

Every running thought in Tony’s brain just froze. There was no protocol for dealing with this. Steve was kissing him! Steve! Kissing him! What?

Steve withdrew after a moment of Tony not responding.

“Don’t you…,” he trailed off, looking at him like he had kicked a puppy, before lowering his gaze. “Sorry. I thought you’d… you know? Wanted it, too.”

Tony was absolutely sure that he himself was nowhere near drunk enough to hallucinate this. Maybe that was the problem? Maybe he was going through withdrawal? But withdrawal usually hurt a lot more. Tony was completely confused. There was no possible way this was actually happening. Good things like this just did not happen to people like him.

But apparently Steve had just actually implied that he had wanted to kiss Tony, had hoped he wanted it, too. And now he apparently thought that Tony was rejecting him. God, what was he supposed to do? Steve wouldn’t remember in the morning, he was sure of that, and Tony doubted he could get through confessing his feelings twice to Steve. Hell, there was no guarantee a sober Steve would welcome his advances.

“Hey, Steve, look at me. You’re drunk, you don’t know what you are saying.”

Steve stared at him defiantly. The man just didn’t know how to bow out from a fight.

“Look, you should probably just go sleep it off.” At the panicked look that got him Tony sighed. “You can sleep in my bed”

Somehow Tony managed to help drag Steve’s heavy body to his bed, without both of them falling over. Once Steve was lying securely on the bed, he curled up into a ball like a wounded animal; falling asleep nearly immediately.

Tony walked back to his chair in the living room. Seeing Steve asleep in his bed was more than he could handle right now.

He buried his face in his hands. He had no idea what he’d do come morning. It could all end so badly. But this night had sparked a glimmer of hope in Tony’s heart and he wasn’t sure if he could stand to extinguish it without even trying. He took a deep breath and muttered “Go big or go home, Stark” quietly to himself. His mind was made up. In the morning he would confess his feelings to Steve.

* * *

When Tony awoke the next morning, his neck was stiff. Slowly he rolled his head to ease the tension. Sleeping in the chair had been a bad idea, but joining Steve in the bed would have been a worse one.

The thought of Steve made his palms sweat and his heart beat faster with anxiety. But he made a promise to himself, and he would not break it now. He could do this.

He  _ would  _ do this.

From his bedroom he heard a muffled yawn followed by the dull thump of feet hitting the floorboards. Steve was up then.

Tony took a deep breath and got up. Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed, squinting against the morning sun that shone through a crack in the curtains.

“Morning, sheriff. How’s your head?” Tony greeted. He considered sitting down next to Steve but thought better of it. Safer to stay out of punching range.

“I’ve had no complaints, yet” Steve replied, voice hoarse from sleep. Tony’s jaw fell open and he just stared at the blonde man in his bed.

Steve looked at Tony. “Are you going to tell anyone? As you said Timely can’t lose another sheriff.”

“What?” Tony was confused.

“Are you going to tell people that I like men?” Steve asked, enunciating every word carefully.

Tony’s heart was fluttering so fast in his chest, he thought it might be trying to escape. So, last night hadn’t been a fluke? He hadn’t just been the closest body for Steve to draw comfort from? Was Steve actually attracted to him? Him? The notorious drunk? The town embarrassment? What?

Slowly Tony shook his head. It was now or never, if Steve remembered last night he probably believed Tony didn’t want him.

“No. Losing you is the last thing that I want.” Tony swallowed. “Please tell me if I’m out of line here, but do you want me?”

Steve nodded warily.

Tony’s whole body flooded with relief. Bonelessly he sagged against the nearest wall. His legs seemed happy to abandon him.

“I want you too, Steve,” he breathed out. His head was spinning either from lack of oxygen because he seemed to have forgotten how to breath or because his brain had a hard time believing what was actually happening. This felt so much like a dream. How could he be sure he it wasn’t just a fantasy his mind had conjured up and he wasn’t lying drunk in a ditch somewhere?

His hands curled around Steve’s neck, grounding him in the here and now. Steve’s clear blue eyes looked right at his soul and instead of running he pulled Tony closer.

Tony was aware that love was not a magical cure-all, that keeping what they both wanted would be hard. But this was a start.

The start of something great.


End file.
